Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
“ Everyone is talking about him,” Sarah said, tugging Emma into the crowded auditorium. “Even the coldest cynic will be singing about global harmony by the time they leave one of his lectures.”
“Are all visiting professors such big deals?” Emma managed not to get elbowed in the ribs by a group of eager college students racing for the last empty seats. As curious as she was to see what all the fuss was about, being trampled by a swarm of overexcited undergraduates wasn’t her idea of a fun time.
“Not all of them. But this one is so passionate about international relations.” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows.
“Is international relations code for something lascivious?”
“The eyebrow wiggle was to emphasize the word passionate, not international relations .” Sarah affectionately rolled her eyes at her.
Emma hadn’t been too surprised when her favorite client invited her out to lunch. It seemed natural that their easy rapport would lead to friendship. What did surprise her was that her new friend wanted to meet because she needed advice about a girl she was crushing on.
She gladly accepted the invitation. After all, she was the goddaughter of a renowned Madame Ddu. She knew a thing or two about compatibility and healthy relationships. And who could resist a chance to meddle in someone else’s love life? She wanted to rub her hands together and cackle.
Too bad she was hopeless when it came to her own love life. She could not believe she didn’t even get Michel’s last name, much less his phone number. And what about him? Why didn’t he ask for her number? It was inconceivable that he was as awful at this dating thing as she was.
When Sarah suggested heading over to USC to show Emma the object of her affection, Emma figured it would help take her mind off of her dismay over the Michel situation. Now that she’d decided on indulging in a fun evening with a handsome, sophisticated man, the thought of not getting that date disappointed her. But moping about it solved nothing.
Once she finished her friend duty, she should go camp out at the hotel café. She was bound to run into Michel sooner or later since he said he was a regular there. It might make her seem kind of desperate, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see him again, so she would make it happen.
She stumbled forward a couple of steps when someone shoved her from behind. She shot a narrowed-eye glare over her shoulder, and the kid blanched. She felt a little bad, but she had to make it out of here alive. They finally managed to find seats in the very first row of the auditorium, always the least popular seats in lectures, but even those were nearly filled up.
“We’re not staying for the entire lecture, are we?” Emma whispered.
“No, I’ll just point her out to you, then we can leave.” Sarah scanned the stage area and the seats around them. “I don’t see her yet. She’s probably coming in with Professor Chevalier. Jeannie is his TA.”
“So your crush is an international relations major?”
“Shhh.” Sarah glanced around quickly. “I’ll die if she finds out.”
“It’s too loud in here for anyone to overhear us,” Emma said with a reassuring smile. “And I promise you won’t die.”
“She’s here.” Sarah gripped Emma’s arm and pointed out her crush with her eyeballs and tongue. Sure, it was less conspicuous than pointing with her finger, but her friend looked like she was impersonating a dead fish—the cute cartoon kind but a dead fish nonetheless.
Emma dutifully turned in the direction of Sarah’s tongue and eyeballs, then froze in her seat. She barely registered the fresh-faced redhead juggling a stack of folders down the aisle because her focus zeroed in on the man walking beside her.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, taking some of the folders from his TA’s arms.
Butter and sugar . A long breath rushed past Emma’s lips as something unknotted in her chest. She didn’t have to languish away at the hotel café after all. Michel was right here. And if she’d found him handsome in the café, Michel in a well-fitted suit and tie… She swallowed. Well, he looked good enough to eat.
“So? What do you think?” Sarah whispered, loosening her grip on Emma’s arm. “Isn’t she dreamy?”
Emma tore her gaze away from Michel as Jeannie walked up the stage and arranged the folders on a rectangular foldaway table off to the side. Even in a baggy sweatshirt and tattered jeans, her translucent skin and flaming red hair—which could use a good brushing—made her hard to miss. The TA jogged down the stage and settled into a seat not far away from them. She pulled her long hair into a messy ponytail, her cheeks expanding on a heavy exhale, and promptly slouched into her chair.
“Yes, absolutely dreamy,” Emma said with an indulgent smile at her friend.
She thought better of adding that the gorgeous redhead would be much improved with properly fitted clothing and good posture. But appearing professional and well put-together might not be important to Jeannie. While Emma believed in putting care and effort into her appearance, everyone had their own priorities.
Speaking of priorities, she should ask Sarah whether Jeannie’s priorities were compatible with hers. Physical attraction mattered, of course, but it shouldn’t be all about that. Sarah should consider the practicalities of a relationship with her crush before she did anything rash like confess her feelings. But the crowded auditorium didn’t seem like the place to have that discussion.
Deciding she’d adequately carried out her friend duty for the time being, Emma returned her focus to her dreamy crush. Well, crush might be an overstatement. She barely knew the man. It was more like a mild interest. Well, mild might be an understatement. Would temporary interest work? She huffed out an impatient breath. She was being ridiculous.
But all other thoughts, ridiculous or otherwise, left her head as Michel took the stage, clipping a small mic to his lapel. A hush fell across the room. He shielded his eyes from the spotlight and glanced slowly around the packed auditorium. Emma sank low in her seat, afraid he’d spot her—she didn’t want to distract him from his lecture. But when his glance skipped right over her, she guessed the bright lights hid her from view.
With a low whistle, he slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Is it me or is this auditorium getting smaller by the day?”
Emma smiled when laughter rang through the lecture hall, feeling oddly proud of him. He was the visiting professor that had the whole school buzzing. And five minutes into the lecture, she could see why. He was a charismatic speaker, intelligent and articulate, but it was his passion for the topic that drew in the crowd. His fairy-tale good looks should have been a distraction, but his words held everyone captive.
“Emma?”
“Hmm?” She half turned toward Sarah.
“I asked if you wanted to leave,” her friend whispered.
“Oh, no.” Emma shook her head at once. Michel walked across the stage with wide, confident steps, emphasizing opposing perspectives with each hand. “It would be rude to leave in the middle of the lecture, especially since we’re in the very front row.”
“Okay.” Sarah didn’t seem to mind, as she settled back in her seat and resumed stealing glances at Jeannie.
When the lecture ended, Emma found herself clapping as enthusiastically as everyone else. Her blood pounded in her ears, and her chest rose and fell faster than sitting at a lecture warranted. It wasn’t only due to her newfound enthusiasm for global harmony. It seemed Emma had a thing for gorgeous, brilliant men with sweet, buttery accents—like 80 percent of the audience.
Even as Michel’s lecture had riveted her intellect, her body had hummed with awareness. She found his warm, playful side charming, but she couldn’t get enough of this competent side to him. There was something innately sexy about a man who knew what he was doing. He commanded her attention with a natural grace and confidence that she couldn’t resist. Lust wasn’t an emotion Emma was overly familiar with, but something deep inside her craved this man.
“Shoot. I’m going to be late for my next class,” Sarah said, gathering her backpack off the floor. “Will you be okay finding your way back to your car?”
“I’ll be fine.” Emma stood to give her friend a quick hug. “Bring extra containers to your next lesson. We’re going to make a smorgasbord of jeon.”
“Mmm. Pan-fried goodness.” Sarah stole one last lingering glance at Jeannie. “I’ll see you next week.”
By the time Emma turned to face the stage again, she couldn’t find Michel. In a panic, she spun around in a circle. The auditorium was emptying out quickly. Did he already leave? Frustrated tears prickled behind her eyes until she caught a glimpse of deep golden hair at the bottom of the stage. He hadn’t left. He’d just been swarmed by a group of students.
Relief and bemusement coursed through her. He was like a celebrity surrounded by eager fans. She wasn’t entirely sure if she could shove her way past the students to reach him. With a huff of frustration, she sat back down in her seat and trained her eyes on him, determined not to lose sight of him again.
He listened attentively to each student, his head bent forward and his brows slightly drawn, then answered their questions thoughtfully. Once in a while, his face would split into a proud smile at a bright pupil, and it was enough to get Emma’s pulse fluttering. She couldn’t help but wish she was the recipient of that smile. Suddenly, she could hardly wait to speak to him again, but nearly half an hour passed before he raised his hand and made placating noises as he maneuvered past his admirers.
“My brilliant TA, Jeannie McMahon, can answer the rest of your questions.” Michel nodded apologetically at the redhead who stood a few paces away from the crowd.
“All right, people. Enough with the mosh pit,” Jeannie called out, clapping her hands smartly to draw the students’ attention. “And for those of you who look poised to chase after the professor, remember that I’ll be the one making your grade recommendations at the end of the term.”
With his head down, Michel took long, quick strides toward the nearest exit. Even after an hour-long lecture and being mobbed by eager students, he didn’t have a single hair out of place. Slightly queasy with nerves and anticipation, Emma hurried down the aisle to catch him before he disappeared. Blowing out a calming breath, she fell into step at his side just in time to walk out into the hallway with him.
“It’s Yoon, by the way,” Emma said as casually as she could manage with her heart bouncing off the walls of her chest cavity.
“Emma.” Michel halted so abruptly that she had to retrace a couple of steps to join him again.
“Yes.” She held up her index finger. “Emma Yoon .”
“How… What are you doing here?” His eyes roamed her face as though he couldn’t quite believe that she was standing in front of him.
She smoothed a self-conscious hand down her hair. She wasn’t dressed to impress like for her matseons, but she looked far from shabby in her rose-gold peasant blouse and formfitting jeans. Her makeup was light but flawless, and her strappy gold stilettos were to die for. She had no reason to feel self-conscious. She cleared her throat and brought her hand down to her side.
“Wrong question,” she said, arching her eyebrow. “You, Michel Chevalier, should be asking me for my number.”
His dumbfounded expression faded away as a broad grin overtook his face. “Ms. Emma Yoon, may I please have your number?”
“Your cell.” She held out her hand, palm up. His head cocked to the side. “I need your cell phone to give you my number.”
“Ah.” He promptly reached inside his suit jacket and withdrew his phone. “Here you go.”
She took it from him, their fingers brushing in the exchange. She questioned the wisdom of her three-inch heels when her knees went weak at the contact. Resolutely, she typed in her number and pressed Dial. When she heard her cell ring in her purse, she hung up the call.
“There.” She handed him his phone, careful not to let their fingers touch, since she had to be able to walk back to her car.
“Thank you, ” he said in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine. “Should we—”
“Call me,” she cut him off, then swept past him, flipping her hair.
Her visceral reaction to watching his lecture had thrown her off her balance. Meeting him in the hotel café had already proven inconvenient, and she had no intention of losing control of the whole situation. She hoped this dramatic exit put them back on an equal footing while she figured some things out.
She couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. Michel stood where she left him, staring after her with unmistakable yearning. She faced forward again with a happy smile tugging at her lips. Equal footing accomplished .